


So What's The Use In Going Home Until The Break Of Day?

by shadedScribe



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Gen, Krispy Kreme, Multi, Tired people, acrobatics lessons, and rooftop tag, as a spice, featuring: funny carvings, jason vs the trolley problem, statue shenanigans, the slightest glimmers of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadedScribe/pseuds/shadedScribe
Summary: Even the Bats can't brood on top of gargoylesallthe time: seven happy moments on Gotham's rooftops over the years.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130





	So What's The Use In Going Home Until The Break Of Day?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a collection of drabbles/ficlets/whatevers about the Batfam, no real connecting thread except that they're all kind of on the lighter side and I think they're nice. No connection to my Batfam/Midnight Crew crossover, despite the name: it's just that half the lines in "I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew" work as Batfam fic titles lol. Enjoy!

1.

Bruce crouched on top of a gargoyle as he scanned the streets for signs of trouble. There was nothing so far; all of Gotham’s supervillains were in Blackgate or Arkham for once, and the city was quiet. There hadn’t even been any police sirens for a while. Dick fidgeted a bit from his spot on Bruce’s left. He was getting better at scanning for trouble, but his focus could still drift sometimes. Not that Bruce could blame him, on an easy night like this.

The two of them were perched on the corner of Gotham Cathedral, surrounded by gargoyles and figures carved into the walls. The carvings were intricate and highly historical; they were also mostly rather unpleasant-looking.

Bruce sighed. A few more minutes, and then the two of them would move on to running along the rooftops, practicing acrobatics while on the move and looking for trouble. Even if the city wasn’t inclined to give them anything of importance to do, they could still use this night.

“Hey,” said Dick, pointing, “doesn’t that carving kind of look like Alfred?”

Bruce looked at where he was pointing. The carving showed an assortment of incredibly ugly bat-winged demons, each looking fully capable of ripping a hundred men to shreds. But rather than rampaging, they were cowering under the glare and pointed finger of a stern-looking monk with a thin mustache.

“You know,” said Bruce, “it does look like Alfred. Get a picture.”

Dick whipped out the little camera they used for crime scene photos and started taking snapshots. Bruce smiled a little. Alfred would undoubtedly be rather amused when Dick showed him the pictures later.

A little ways off, there was the sound of yelling and running down on the street. Bruce and Dick looked to see what the commotion was. 

A trio of muggers had jumped a jogger going past the cathedral- or, rather, had tried to. Unfortunately for them, their intended victim was a lot more athletic than they had realized, and she was loping along about ten yards ahead of them while they struggled to pursue.

“What’s the matter boys, need more exercise?” the jogger called back.

“It looks like those muggers are having a bad night.” said Bruce.

“Yeah, and it’s about to get a whole lot worse.” said Dick, already pulling out a grapple.

The two of them swung down on the muggers, their caped shadows flowing ominously over the buildings as they came, much to the delight of the jogging woman.

“You guys sure are fucked now!” she called back at her would-be assailants.

“What the nice lady said.” Dick agreed as he and Bruce landed between her and the crooks.

The muggers fled in panic, and the jogger tipped the two of them a salute before continuing on her way. Bruce smiled as he and Dick started off in pursuit; it was nice to be appreciated.

2\. 

“I’m just saying,” said Jason, “I feel like there isn’t enough weight being given to trying to figure out who’s been tying all of these people to trolley tracks.”

“That’s not the point of the trolley problem, you know.” said Barbara, shaking her head.

The two of them (Bruce was busy at some social function he hadn’t been able to wriggle out of attending) were hanging out on top of an office building across from the Gotham Library, waiting for a fellow who they suspected was looking up references in order to carry out some sort of weird evil magic ritual. But if past experience was anything to go on, he wouldn’t be coming out for a while. As such, the two of them had some time to kill, and they had wound up discussing philosophy for some reason, which meant that Barbara got to discover Jason’s disdain for the trolley problem.

“It’s just a really bad way to look at things.” he said. “I mean, you’re trying to reduce a complicated ethical dilemma to a math problem. You’d never get it laid out all simple like that in real life.”

“I don’t know.” said Barbara. “You should maybe knock on wood when you say that, before we get a new villain calling himself the Trolleymaster or something.”

Jason rolled his eyes but dutifully rapped his knuckles on a nearby wooden sign. “But see, that’s the thing. If someone did that for real, we wouldn’t just sit around deciding who to save. We’d derail the trolley or swoop in to save the one person or just kick the Trolleymaster’s ass before he could even set the thing up.”

“Well, sure, but I think you’re taking it a bit too literally.” said Barbara. “The point is that sometimes you can’t save everyone, so you have to make a choice. Is it alright to sacrifice someone else for the greater good?”

Jason thought about it for a second.

“That’s kind of defeatist, isn’t it?” he finally said.

“Defeatist?”

“Yeah, defeatist. Because-” Jason paused to find the right words. “Because, okay, sometimes it’s too late and all you can do is decide who to save. But that’s not how it has to be. Think about how many things would have to go wrong for that trolley scenario to happen. Someone had to get away with kidnapping five or six people and tying them to trolley tracks without being detected, there had to be a time when no one could get to the people in time to untie them, and the trolley has to not have any brakes or whatever. The problem talks about it like it was just something that happened, but someone could have stopped it. And if we just give up and say that there’s always going to be the bad scenario, we miss out on our chance to make it better.”

“Do you think that kind of reasoning applies to everything?” Barbara asked. “Plagues, natural disasters, that sort of thing?”

“Sure.” said Jason. “Whenever there’s a disaster, there’s always something someone could have done to, you know, prepare, and at least make it not as bad.”

“Hm.” Barbara thought it over.

“I think a lot of people who get hurt could be saved if someone would just be there to help them. And there are a lot of problems that only exist because of bad people, and if someone would just take them down before they got started, we wouldn’t have to make hard choices like that.” Jason smiled and fidgeted with the Robin emblem on his costume. “Guess that’s why we’re in this line of work.”

“You know, I never quite thought about it that way.” said Barbara. 

Jason shrugged. 

“Maybe you should major in philosophy when you go to college.” Barbara added.

“Nah.” said Jason. “Literature all the way. Maybe a minor, though.”

“You could always double major.” Barbara suggested teasingly.

“Yeah, right.” Jason shook his head. “Not everyone’s got your crazy speed-reading skills, you know. Besides, I’ve got enough late nights from this gig already, I don’t need to add more.”

“If you say so.” Barbara smiled. “But if you ever need to bounce any ideas off of me or get some advice on a paper or something, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks.” said Jason. The two of them went back to watching the library in companionable silence, before Jason caught sight of the target.

“Hey, speaking of taking down bad guys, here comes our guy.” he said.

Barbara peered over the ledge at the wannabe wizard. “Jeez. Do you think he’s got enough coffee stains on him?”

“Well, if he adds a couple more to cover up that orange patch on his sweater, it actually would make a decent camouflage pattern.” Jason pointed out.

“True. We’d better follow him before he spills something else on himself and we can’t track him.” Barbara joked.

The two of them slipped away to pursue their target, silent as shadows. 

3\. 

Bruce snuck a glance at Tim while Detective Montoya looked through her files to see if the GCPD had anything on the crooks they had caught trying to steal an advanced microchip from WayneTech. He looked pretty miserable; Bruce would have to talk to him.

“Well, there’s nothing actually proven, but we suspect these guys work for the Penguin.” Montoya informed him, looking up from her computer.

“That’s enough for me to go on. Thank you, detective.” Bruce replied.

“You’re welcome.” Montoya turned around to glance at the statue of an angel that had fallen off a nearby roof and lay shattered in the street. “Say, do you think-” She trailed off as she turned around and saw that Bruce had already vanished. “Typical.”

Bruce and Tim landed a few rooftops away and stopped for a minute.

“Robin.” Bruce started.

“I know, I know.” said Tim. “It’s my fault that those first two cars got away, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what-” Bruce tried to cut him off, but he was well into his ramble.

“And I realize now that I should have done a better job of making sure that my grappling line was secure, and been more careful, and, gah.” Tim shook his head. “I tried to grapple off of a convenient statue and it broke right off because I didn’t think to make sure it was sturdy enough. Bet I’m the first one to manage that particular screwup.”

Bruce looked around to make sure there was no one who could overhear before answering. 

“Fifth.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re the fifth one of us to break that particular statue.” Bruce explained.

“But, wait, there’s only been five of us.” said Tim. “Really?”

Bruce nodded. “I broke it once in more or less the same way you did. Dick actually managed to do it twice.”

“Twice?” Tim said incredulously.

“There were a few years in between. He assumed that they must have reinforced it in the interim. He was incorrect.” Bruce said, dryly. Tim chuckled a bit.

“Barbara,” Bruce continued, “nearly dropped it on her head trying to grapple up from the street. And Jason-” Bruce paused. There was still a stab of pain when he brought up Jason, like probing at a broken tooth. But this was a good memory.

“We were on that roof, and I took the opportunity to mention the fragility of that particular statue. He said that he thought that it looked plenty sturdy, and tried to prove it by leaning on it.”

“Oh no.” said Tim, laughing.

“It went right over the edge.” Bruce smiled at the memory of Jason’s startled face, and the expression of cherubic innocence that he had put on afterwards.

“Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better.” said Tim.

“Frankly, it’s my fault for not thinking to remind you.” said Bruce. “It really is in a perfectly tempting spot.”

“It really is.” Tim agreed. “Still, I’m sorry that those cars got away.”

“It happens.” said Bruce. “We’re only human. The important thing is to keep going, and remember that there’s always next time.”

Tim nodded. “Right. Thanks.” He paused. “So, now what?”

“Well, there’s no point in trying to track those criminals right now.” said Bruce. “So let’s get some acrobatics practice in. What’s your favorite spot for viewing the city?”

Tim thought for a moment. “The top of the GBC building.”

“Race you there.” said Bruce. “No touching the ground.”

“You’re on!” said Tim, already running across the roofs.

A bit of freerunning over the rooftops ought to help him get his confidence back after that mishap with the statue. Bruce smiled as he followed Tim; he had to admit, it was good to have company when he was out in Gotham again.

4\. 

Tim sighed as he jumped from roof to roof under the full moon’s light. There was absolutely nothing going on in Gotham tonight, which was a rare treat. On another night, he might have just gone home early or something, but not tonight. It had taken him, Cass, and Alfred about ten minutes to talk Bruce into not going out with broken ribs again, and if he called it a night early, Bruce might be worried about the city; he got like that when he was on the bench.

Oh, well, Tim could find something to do. He amused himself for a while by practicing acrobatics as he ran across the roofs, then took a second to look through the park to see if there were any animals or plants acting oddly, which was a smart precaution in this city. Still nothing. Tim gave in and called Cass, who was running her own patrol on the other side of town.

“How’s it going, Batgirl?” he asked.

He could practically hear her shrug over the communicator. “Pretty quiet. Broke up a mugging, but that’s it.”

“You need anything?”

“Hm.” Cass thought for a moment. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I’ll pick something up.” said Tim. “Meet you at the library in fifteen minutes. Robin out.”

Tim looked around for something that was still open. Most of it was fast food restaurants and bars. Wait, there was something over there.

Fifteen minutes later, Tim swung onto the roof of the library with a box of donuts under his arm. Cass was already waiting for him, sitting comfortably up against a vent.

“You know,” said Tim, “I’m not sure why that Krispy Kreme feels the need to be open at 1 AM, but I’m not complaining.”

He sat down next to Cass and held the box out for her. She took a glazed donut and examined it skeptically, turning it over and over in her hands.

“Have you never had one of those before?” Tim asked.

“No.” said Cass. “When I was little, it was all special powders and stuff, to give me the best growth. Tasted like sawdust. And before I met Oracle, it was, well,” She shrugged. “It was whatever.”

Cass took a bite of the donut, chewing with an evaluative expression on her face. She then smiled broadly, licked her lips, and proceeded to methodically devour half the box.

“I take it you like them, then.” said Tim.

Cass made an indistinct noise of agreement through a mouthful of glazed cruller.

“Glad to be of service.” said Tim.

“Thank you.” said Cass when she was finished.

“You’re welcome. Just don’t tell Alfred I got them.” Tim said.

Cass looked at him quizzically.

“Dick once said that even Alfred’s homemade donuts could never capture the spirit of cheap mass-produced Krispy Kremes, and Alfred’s held a grudge ever since.” explained Tim, before clarifying. “It’s not, like, a real grudge, it’s just a thing we joke about.”

“Ah.” Cass looked up contemplatively at where the stars might have been in a city with less industrial pollution. 

“Do you think if I mention it to Alfred he’ll try to outdo the other donuts with his own recipes?” she asked.

“Most likely.”

Cass grinned like a cat that had learned how to open the refrigerator. “Then I should mention it.”

“I guess, huh.”

Tim’s radio tuned to the police band picked up a report about a break-in at the Natural History museum.

“Duty calls.” he said.

Cass sprang lithely to her feet and offered a hand to help him up, and then the two of them were swinging off into the night.

5\. 

Cassandra sighed and stretched her arms as the last few vans drove away from the docks with their prisoners. It had been a long night.

Still, it had been worth it; after weeks of preparation using fake identities, Barbara’s hacking skills, and fake leaks to criminals hidden in the police department, the Batfamily had managed to arrange for a massive bust that got nearly every member of an infamous human trafficking gang, along with hundreds of their victims, in one place to be dealt with/rescued.

It had taken all night to subdue everyone; the gang had lots of weapons, well-trained fighters, and even a couple metahumans. But they had managed, and no one had been seriously hurt, and all of the gang’s victims were safe and sound.

As the first glimmers of sunrise flowed over the horizon, Cass looked around to see how her family was doing. Bruce was over by the street, talking with some people from social services about making sure any orphaned children among the rescued would be taken care of. Dick was in a corner talking on the phone with somebody, most likely Kori, if the fondness in his expression was anything to go by. Tim was in the traffickers’ ship, collecting evidence. Steph was lying up on the roof of a warehouse, not really doing anything.

Cass looked her over with concern, but she didn’t seem particularly hurt; she was still a bit bruised from when she had tackled Cass out of the way of the shot from some C-lister’s sonic gun and gotten clipped by it herself, but she was otherwise fine. Just tired, then. Cass climbed up to the roof and stood over her.

“Probably not the best place to sleep.”

Steph glanced up at her blearily. “Yeah, but the way I feel, I think I could fall asleep inside a crashing plane.”

“That’s fair. But we’re probably leaving soon to go to actual beds.”

“Oh, alright.” Steph groaned and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She looked utterly exhausted and in need of a hug, so Cass did the natural thing and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. Steph made a little happy noise and curled into the contact, resting her head on Cass’ shoulder.

They sat like that for a while, as the others finished up their business. The sunrise had begun in earnest, the warm orange glow managing to make even Gotham’s ugly smog clouds look nice.

“We did good tonight, huh.” Steph asked, looking like she was pretty sure of it but would appreciate the confirmation anyway.

“Yes, we did.” said Cass. “You did good.” she added specifically. “Thanks for the save.”

“What? Oh, yeah, the sonic guy. You’re welcome.” Steph grinned ruefully. “I guess I only owe you for like, forty-something times you’ve saved me now.”

“I don’t keep track.”

“Really?” Steph raised an eyebrow. “You’re usually more competitive than that.” 

“That’s different.”

“How so?” Steph asked.

“I’m never going to hold it over you when I save you, because I don’t want you to feel bad about it.” said Cass, matter-of-factly. “I’ll be there for you as many times as it takes, because I love you.”

Steph blinked, then blushed as red as an apple.

“You gotta warn me before you say things like that.” she said. “I need to brace for the affection.”

“Nope.” Cass grinned. She glanced back down at the street and saw that everyone was getting ready to leave. “Hey, time to go.” 

“Oh, alright.”

Steph let Cass pull her to her feet, then the two of them clambered down off the roof and got in the car, where Steph promptly fell asleep on Cass’ shoulder.

“I guess someone needs a little more endurance training.” Dick gently teased.

He had that particular fluttering tremble to his eyelids that meant Bruce was probably going to have to carry his snoring frame up the stairs when they got back to the Batcave, so Cass rolled her eyes and ignored him. As they were about to drive off, she took one last look out the window at the rescued people being taken care of and smiled. She and her family had helped them, and everyone in her family was safe and sound. It was nights like this that made Cass glad that she had the life she did.

6.

Dick smiled as he sprang towards the next rooftop and felt the breeze on his face. It had taken a little time (especially to figure out how to work around the cape), but he was finally starting to get used to the Batman costume enough to really bring his acrobatics up to their usual standard.

He stuck the landing and stood up to go and have a look across the city. There was a crunch of gravel as Damian slid in behind him.

“Anything on the police scanner?” Dick asked.

Damian checked. “No.”

Dick smiled. “Well, since there doesn’t seem to be anything else going on at the moment in Gotham, I think this is a good time to catch up on some of your training.”

“Catch up?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “The League of Assassins didn’t exactly coddle me, you know? You’re not dealing with some amateur here.”

“True.” Dick agreed. “In terms of fighting skills and stealth, you’re far better than I was when I started out as Robin. But there’s always room to learn more in some other areas.”

“Like what?” Damian asked, skeptical.

“Acrobatics, for starters.”

“I was taught how to keep my balance and move quickly in any circumstances.” 

Dick looked around the nearby rooftops for a convenient spot. They were right next to the International Building, with its row of flagpoles sticking out from the front face almost like a bridge extending from the roof he and Damian were currently on to the office building beyond. That would do. He gestured to the row of flagpoles.

“In that case, why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

Damian nodded, then ran over, jumping up onto the first pole and running across, stepping from flagpole to flagpole as steadily as if he had been on solid ground, then, as he got to the end, spinning around mid-step and backflipping onto the far roof.

“Pretty good!” Dick called across the gap.

“Quite.” said Damian. “What else do you want me to do, run it over and over again until I can do it even in an earthquake?”

“Not exactly what I had in mind.” 

Dick took a deep breath and stretched his arms. Time to show off. Without bothering to get a running start, he stepped off the roof, grabbed the first flagpole on his way down-

-and flew.

Not literally, of course, even if there probably was a gadget for that lying around the cave somewhere. But it felt like flying. He used every trick he knew, everything he had ever learned from his parents or gone around the world to find or improvised on the job. All of the most technically difficult, impossible, seemingly physics-defying pieces of acrobatics you could ask for; there were a few in the mix that even the rest of the family couldn’t quite copy.

Finally, after running through the whole repertoire, Dick neatly flipped over to the opposite roof over Damian’s head, did a one-handed handspring, and landed on top of an air duct, ready to spring away again in an instant.

“What… how did you?” Damian trailed off.

Dick smiled.

“My parents were the best acrobats in the world. And everything they didn’t manage to teach me before they passed, I’ve spent years finding teachers around the world to show me or reconstructing it for myself.” Dick put a friendly hand on Damian’s shoulder. “John and Mary Grayson may be gone, but their legacy, their art, lives on, and it’s my honor to carry it forward and help teach their skills to those who are going to use them to help people.” He grinned wryly at Damian. “That being you, in this case.”

Damian looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded.

“In that case, it’s my honor to learn. How do we start?”

“Well, the first thing is to make sure you’ve stretched properly.” said Dick. “In the middle of a handstand three hundred feet above the ground is the last place you want your arms to cramp up.”

“I suppose it is.” Damian agreed, dutifully stretching.

And as he started running Damian through some of the basics he would need to learn the more advanced tricks, Dick felt satisfied. Maybe Bruce would make it back from whatever limbo he was stuck in, and maybe not, but either way, Dick was going to teach Damian everything he could.

7\. 

Stephanie gritted her teeth and tried to keep her expression neutral as she and Damian stood on top of a church spire and looked out over the city.

In a truly shocking turn of events, Gotham was downright peaceful tonight, thanks to unseasonably cold weather and an abundance of good TV coming available on WayneTV’s new streaming service. Ordinarily, a quiet night like this would have been a rare treat for Steph. Of course, ordinarily she would have been on patrol with her girlfriend, but Cass had dislocated her shoulder while helping bring in Bane two days ago, and since Bane had been the last major villain at large, Steph, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce had all insisted that she get some rest instead of trying to work through it.

And so, Steph was out here with Damian instead. Honestly, she had been starting to get along with him a lot better lately, but for whatever reason he was just real irritable tonight, constantly pacing and snapping at her for not being quick enough with checking the radio or moving between lookout spots.

“Is there anything on the police tracker?” Damian asked her, for what felt like the millionth time.

“Just a second.” said Steph.

“Come on, we don’t have all night.”

Steph looked incredulously at him. “Are you sure about that? Because there is not much going on out there, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“There could be something going on, but we would never know, because you’re not checking the-”

“Alright already, geez.” Steph checked it. “Nothing, just like it was two minutes ago. Happy?”

Damian didn’t answer her as he grappled to the next roof.

“Seriously!” Steph called after him as she followed. “You weren’t this wound up when Riddler hired a bunch of mercs to help him try and take out Penguin and they had a city-wide shootout in the middle of a Joker rampage. What gives?”

“Quiet, I’m listening for trouble.” Damian snapped.

Steph sighed and shut up. As they sat and listened, she examined the streets, which were about as empty as she had ever seen them. There were no villains worth mentioning that weren’t locked up, and even if one escaped they would get a notification instantly. Nothing was happening.

Damian made a frustrated noise.

“Seriously, what’s the problem?” Steph asked. “This is like, the easiest night I’ve ever seen in Gotham.”

“Maybe you’re content to go back to Batman and report that you swanned around on the rooftops all night without accomplishing anything, but some of us have higher standards than that.” Damian said.

“What, you think Batman’s gonna yell at you for not beating up enough people or something?”

“Well,” Damian started, before pausing. “I mean, no, but still, I don’t want him thinking that I wasn’t making an effort. Or getting too complacent.”

Steph snorted with laughter. “Yeah, because relaxed and complacent is definitely the first thing anyone thinks of when they think of Dam- I mean, Robin.”

Damian glared at her, but he seemed to understand the point.

“I was taught to be useful.” he half-muttered.

Oh. Ohhhhhh. That was it.

“Yeah, but a lot of your teachers kinda sucked.”

Damian laughed mirthlessly.

“Besides,” Steph continued, “nights like this are kinda like, a trophy or something, I don’t know.”

“A trophy?”

“Yeah. We fight crime, right?”

“Right.” Damian looked skeptical, but he was listening.

“So, if there’s no crime, that means we’re winning!” Steph declared.

“I can’t argue with that.” Damian admitted.

“Damn straight you can’t.”

“Still, I can’t help but dislike not being active.”

Steph pondered that for a second. Then she reached out and smacked Damian on the shoulder.

“Tag.” she said.

“What?”

“You’re It!” Steph yelled back as she leapt off the roof.

“Do you really think I can’t catch you, Spoiler?” Damian asked as he started after her.

Steph grinned as she pulled out a grapple. 

“Sure, but can you do it faster than Batgirl?”

That would probably get Damian interested. Time to run.

Six and a half minutes later, Damian finally managed to swing down from a balcony Steph had missed and land in front of her. Steph jumped on top of a rooftop air conditioner and tried to leap away, but Damian anticipated her and managed to snag her ankle with a lunge, and the both of them collapsed for a moment to catch their breath.

“So, how did I do?” Damian asked.

“Pretty good.” said Steph. “Though the longest I’ve ever gotten away from Batgirl is five minutes.”

“Room for improvement, then.”

They sat for a moment longer, before Damian stood up.

“Anyway, I believe you’re It.” he said, before vaulting over a railing and off the roof.

“Hey! You little-” Steph trailed off as she ran to follow, smiling. Damian seemed to be in a much better mood now. Plus, he probably didn’t know about the shortcuts on the street he was heading down, which meant Steph was probably going to get to tackle him into a rooftop swimming pool, so win-win.

And with that thought in her mind, Steph swung off laughing into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you supposed to capitalize 'It' when referring to tag? It looks weird both ways so I'm not sure.


End file.
